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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24127606">A gift</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hawk_Eye/pseuds/The_Hawk_Eye'>The_Hawk_Eye</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Terror (TV 2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss, Grief/Mourning, Home, Hopeful Ending, Kissing, M/M, Resurrection, Survivor Guilt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 16:22:19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,801</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24127606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Hawk_Eye/pseuds/The_Hawk_Eye</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I should be dead.” He says. It is a statement without any trace of doubt. “You know I should be dead.” He repeats looking at Francis who nods quietly. He is right, he should be dead. Francis helped him to die. Francis watched him dying until his last breath. It was his hand, the one helping him to swallow the poison that would kill him…. That actually killed him. It was Francis the one giving the order to bury his body to make him invisible. </p><p>He should be dead.</p><p>James should be dead.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Captain Francis Crozier/Commander James Fitzjames</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Well, I'm still severely traumatized by this show and this is the way I deal with my pain. </p><p>English is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I should be dead.” He says. It is a statement without any trace of doubt. “You know I should be dead.” He repeats looking at Francis who nods quietly. He is right, he should be dead. Francis helped him to die. Francis watched him dying until his last breath. It was his hand, the one helping him to swallow the poison that would kill him…. That actually killed him. It was Francis the one giving the order to bury his body to make him invisible.</p><p>He should be dead.</p><p>James should be dead.</p><p>“I felt it.” He continues pointing at his chest with his hand. He seems lost and completely terrified. Francis observes the way his long fingers lay on the fur of his vestments. “I felt it.” He repeats and obliges Francis to look at his eyes. “I should be dead, Francis. And you know that.”</p><p>“I know.” Francis concedes. James is right. He died in that tent. He died by his own hand. Francis raises briefly what is left of his stump and watches it. He was the one giving him comfort in his last moments, the one who talked to him until life abandoned James’ eyes. Francis was the one who has to watch him die. “You should…” he doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t want to.</p><p>“I don’t speak their tongue,” James starts talking after a long and thick silence. “But I tried to explain… I’ve learnt some words and I tried to understand why I am here when…” He can’t find the words even in English. He is terrified, Francis can feel it. Francis can feel the terror emanating from James’ voice. “You have to tell them, Francis. You have to ask them.”</p><p>Francis sighs. He doesn’t want to. Francis doesn’t want to ask why a dead man is among them perfectly fine and alive. What if the Eskimos…? Francis doesn’t dare to make the question. He doesn’t want to make the question. He doesn’t need to know or understand why as long as James is with him. For the first time in what it feels an eternity he doesn’t feel completely alone, he doesn’t miss a simple glass of whisky to forget he is the only one who survived, he doesn’t miss his country, London. For the first time in a really long time, he is glad to be in this land. Francis opens his mouth, but he doesn’t dare to speak the words. He is afraid of James’ reaction. The man looks at the very edge of having a crisis and Francis can’t blame him for that.</p><p>He should be dead.</p><p>“Please.” James asks him. He takes his hand and closes his fingers around his. James squeezes his hand, his dark eyes fixating on his. He needs answers. He needs to know, to comprehend…</p><p>“I’ll speak to them.”</p><p>“Francis.” James calls him, still grabbing his hand. Crozier looks at him but he doesn’t say anything. For a moment, he looks small and fragile; he doesn’t look like a young man but like a scared little child. Francis doesn’t need to know but he owes James the favour. None of them moves for several seconds. Crozier can feel his cold fingers against his skin trembling.</p><p>“Are you sure?” He has to ask and James nods at the same time he frees his hand. He is sure. Francis puts his glove before he leaves the tent and looks for the shaman, the only person who will be able to give him an answer. The man smiles at him and invites Crozier to sit next to him. Francis moves nervously. How can he start? He takes some moments to think about what to say. The shaman waits without making a noise which Francis is thankful for. He needs time to find the words.</p><p>Suddenly, Francis remembers the last night they were together. James’ face was pale and his eyes were most of the time unable to focus on anything. Francis remembers his deep voice asking for the end almost choking on the words. The roughness in his last words, the need to end his own life, the pain in every breath he could take. Francis looks at his stump, his missing hand, the one he used to help him to swallow the poison that would bring him peace. Francis remembers his dark eyes on him, waiting for the end, the joy shining in his last moment on this land knowing the pain would end after long weeks of excruciating agony. Francis remembers the shine of ecstasy in his eyes for sharing his last moment with him. After a long torture caused by the illness spreading through his body, James died peacefully in that tent.</p><p>Francis remembers all that, the feeling of relief washing him after losing the man he loves the most in such a sweet and painful way.</p><p>Crozier has to take a deep breath to maintain his composure at this moment. Eskimos are good people; they are amicable and caring. They would never do anything against them but maybe this is too much for them and Francis wouldn’t be disappointed at them. This is too much. James should be dead. He killed him. Francis looks at the shaman who is waiting patiently.</p><p>“It is a gift.” The shaman says when he realizes Francis is incapable of speak the words.</p><p>“A gift?”</p><p>“You’ve lost everything. You’ve abandoned everything.” The shaman keeps talking with no hurry and fondness. “This land, you are part of it now.” Francis nods understanding that the shaman knows James should be dead. Francis decides to stay for some minutes in the outside with the man. His presence relaxes him, it soothes his confusion. Furthermore, he is not ready to face James yet. He will want an answer, a better one than the only he can give him.</p><p>This place is different. Its people are different from what they now. They don’t need to understand everything that surrounds them. This land has his own god and rituals. It is a land of old magic and beliefs. Myths are alive; spirits are walking among them. They have to forget everything they think they know behind. Crozier looks around him, the scenery around them is isolated and beautiful. Francis didn’t like this vision the first time he came to the Arctic, nor this time in the beginning. It was too quiet even for him. Now, however, the silence is harmonious and it brings him peace. The white scenery gives him a feeling of contentment he never felt before in his life.</p><p>Francis closes his eyes for a moment and looks for the strength he will need to talk with James. He doesn’t have an answer and he will never have one. People here won’t give them one. This is all they can get. He thanks the shaman for his short words and stands up to talk to James. He enters the tent and observes James who is looking at the small flames. He is pale and seems skinnier even with all the fur covering every part of his body. His hair is longer and his chin is covered in stubble. He is not the man he used to be; he doesn’t talk too much these days either although that is probably because he doesn’t know the words to tell all his stories. His dark eyes reflect the fire and there is life in there. Francis remembers one of the parties they coincided in the past, he thinks about his eyes shining while everybody around him is laughing genuinely at one of his stories… He is not that man anymore, but his eyes are shining like in one of those parties.</p><p>James’ skin is cadaverous.</p><p>James’ hands are skeletal.</p><p>James’ eyes look terrified.</p><p>And, despite everything, James is more alive than ever.</p><p>No one would dare to deny the obvious truth. He is alive and healthy. There is no trace of illness in him. The group of Eskimos that take care of him said he was in good condition even though they found him on the ice. He should be dead, instead, he is perfectly fine and thriving condition.</p><p>“What has he said?” James asks breathlessly. Francis sits and takes some time to think about how to explain this.</p><p>“Not much.” Sincerity is the only way to answer this. And before James can try to push anything from him, Francis keeps talking. He talks about the land, the beliefs and spirits that reign in the ice. He talks about acceptance and gifts.</p><p>“I don’t deserve it.” It is the first thing James says after Francis stops talking. “I don’t deserve it.” He means it. He truly does. “I’m not the one who should be here… I am not the best man…” He doesn’t dare to say it but Francis understands perfectly his silence. “This is because of you but… I don’t deserve it.” He has been a vain and arrogant man and Francis has despised for that for a long time, but now he is seeing his façade. All that cockiness and hubris were his way to hide all his insecurities and doubts about himself.</p><p>“Of course, you do.” Replies Francis.</p><p>“Harry Goodsir was the one enjoying this. He loved this place.” Francis blinks painfully at the memory of Goodsir’s body half eating over the wood. He deserved better. James is right about that. “He truly loved this land. He was completely infatuated with… And he was good.” James continues, his voice resonating with shame and guilt. Francis knows what is happening. He had the same feeling running through his veins for several days.</p><p>James feels guilty, just like Francis did… and sometimes, still do.</p><p>God wants you to live.</p><p>James’ words echo in his mind. He said those words because he honestly believed in them, but he was mistaken if he survived it wasn’t because their God wanted that. Their God doesn’t have any power here. Francis survived because the Tuunbaq allowed it. After all, this land forgave him for all the damage he committed against its people and their homeland. Francis needed time to accept its forgiveness and now, it is James who needs to accept it. James has to realize he is worthy of this new opportunity to live.</p><p>James has to come to terms with the fact he is the chosen by this heavenly land to have another chance at living honestly, leaving behind all trace of braggadocio and cruelty. This is an opportunity for them to be free and better, to be a better version of themselves. Francis raises his hand and strokes his cheek. James looks at him at the verge of tears. This is painfully for him and this is just the beginning, Crozier realizes.</p><p>“I should be dead.” He repeats and his body trembles. Francis moves his hand until he finds James’ who understands what he needs. He takes off his glove and Francis guides it to his hair to pull it back. He wants to see his face. It hurts to look at his emaciated face and grieving eyes. He needs to come to terms to the fact he is the chosen by this land. Francis gives him a brief smile. Everything is going to be alright, he wants to say but it is too soon for James to hear the words. It is too soon.</p><p>Francis moves his hand, his fingertips caressing his skin with delicacy. He reaches the back of his neck and pushes it a little bit to bring James closer to him. Crozier doesn’t need to understand why or how. He doesn’t need any explanation. James is alive. James is by his side. Francis thought he didn’t need anything since the moment he decided to stay in the Arctic and forget about going back to England. He thought he didn’t need anything or anyone. However, he was mistaken. Some days were too long for him and the isolation made him felt like he was drowning. Sometimes, breathing was too hard for him who didn’t want anything else from this beautiful land. Francis had cravings but he didn’t know what was the thing he yearned for… And then, James came back to him. Francis felt blessed for having him again.</p><p>And now, solitude is more bearable.</p><p>Francis gets lost in his eyes. And digs his fingers in his skin to be even closer to him. James doesn’t move or tries to say anything. It feels like an invitation and he moves his body towards him. Suddenly, James puts one his hand o his chest and stops him. There is no rejection in this gesture. “Are you sure?” Asks James with a soft voice. Francis nods completely sure of what he is doing and what wants to do. He missed his opportunity when they were both with the expedition. Francis regretted not having kissed James that day under the cold sun after hearing his real story, after knowing the real James. That day he should have kissed him. That day, Francis should have captured his rough lips and calm his anxieties and fears. Francis has been regretting his cowardice of that day for a long time. He is not the same man, nor is James; but that desperate feeling is still burning his insides. He wants this.</p><p>Francis wants this.</p><p>Francis wants to taste his lips.</p><p>Francis wants to savour James.</p><p>Francis doesn’t answer James’ question and just makes the distance between disappears. Their lips collide and Francis feels the joy of being alive in this magical and wildland. Francis inhales James’ breath and moves his body to be even closer to him. Being here is a gift for both of them and Francis knows they don’t deserve it. There were better men in the expedition than Francis than deserved to survive more than Crozier, but he was the one who did it. And it is James the one who got this new chance. Francis doesn’t understand why them, but he doesn’t want to know the answer. He doesn’t need to know. Francis feels James’ hand going up until he finds his neck. His fingers are cold and he trembles when they go inside his clothes.</p><p>There were better men in the expedition who deserved this second chance, but Francis is not going to dwell on that thought. There were better men… He thinks about Goodsir, Little, Collins, Blankey… The names of his men echo in his mind. They deserved better than what they got. They deserved… But Francis can’t allow himself to think about that. They are the ones here right now. It is James the one in the tent with him. James…</p><p>Francis lengthens the kiss and breathes through James. His tongue travels around his smooth lips. Crozier passes his free arm around his body and pushes his chest against his. His hand goes up and buries his fingers inside his long and silky hair. Their tongues meet and it feels like a fearless dance. This is it; Francis thinks. This is the only thing he needs to live. James reciprocates every move he does and his long arms go around his body. He is strong and young and Francis can feel his youth in his movements and the passion growing inside his body at every second. For a second, he is falling and Francis prepares his back to hit the ground, but James stops the fall. Francis can feel the smile in James’ lips. The sullen ambient that reigned for hours in the tent disappears.</p><p>When they break the kiss, they look at each other in silence. Now what? The question floats in the tent. Francis knows what he wants to do, but what about James? Does he want to go back to England? Does he want to go back home? There is nothing for Francis in England except James if he decides to return there. They sit correctly and James searches for his hand to intertwine their fingers.</p><p>“Do you want to go home?” Francis asks. It is not his intention but the question sounds abrupt and rude. James smiles and moves softy his head.</p><p>“It is strange,” He starts talking, his dark eyes are bright and there is contentment in them. “To think about this place like home.” There is fondness in his voice which surprises Francis. “I don’t think I can leave this place now. I’m tied to this land, Francis.”</p><p>“I think we both are.” James chuckles at his words.</p><p>James squeezes his hand and closes his eyes with acceptance. They are home now. They will die here and will be invisible to his country. This is their end and their beginning. Francis closes his eyes too and puts his head on James’ shoulder.</p><p>“I’m glad you’re here.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This is all. I don't know where this came from. I was rewatching James' dead and I thought about how sad it is that they never had the time to talk because of the situation. And I wanted to give them the opportunity to do so. I don't know.</p><p>Comments and kudos are welcome!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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